


Silent Words

by mus



Series: Clan Serclun lore [9]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Trauma, hints of mild incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mus/pseuds/mus
Summary: They had never met before, but somehow it felt like they knew each other.





	Silent Words

**Author's Note:**

> [Vasalja](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=37230&tab=dragon&did=1934473) | [Negasi](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=37230&tab=dragon&did=14558749)
> 
> Extended bios for both can be found [here](http://musfr.tumblr.com/post/166912109675). CW for rape, abuse, violence.

**_i._ **

Neither of them dared to speak to the other at first.

Vasalja had caught themself hoping for things they should not hope; the other dragon looks at them like he had seen a ghost.

Vasalja can notice the entire clan tense up as this situation lands into their daily lives without warning or invitation. The leader and her advisor are away, and while those in charge never explicitly stated that the newcomer was welcome, they seemed to acknowledge his presence, yet did nothing to make him leave.

Negasi, he told he was, had intended to simply pass by. But here he was, day after day, gradually injecting himself into the life of Serclun. He offered to help with many tasks, and performed ably, and never made himself more a nuisance than he mayhaps was, what with the air hanging heavy with unspoken questions.

The only problem rose when Negasi attacked a clanmate. He claimed to have defended himself, to make a point about trying to getting at him. His eyes, pale gold as they were, burned in that moment.

Vasalja was unsure what had happened. They were there, to see the incident unfold, and they trusted Tango's word for having no ill intent in approaching Negasi. The 'dancer was a mischievous one, but they were genuinely distraught afterwards, even while they only received minor scrapes before the guardian, Sam, had interfered and subdued the apparent troublemaker.

Negasi did not partake in any activities the day after, and instead isolated himself from the clan, hiding into a burrow outside the lair.

But he never left.

Vasalja waited, and watched, and counted five nights before Negasi came forth and apologised, squirming with every step as he approached Tango. It was a distinct kind of unease, not borne of shame or quilt. No. Negasi held his gaze even when face to face with the one he had lashed out at, and his words carried no hesitation.

Tango, at first cautious, then seemingly satisfied, forgave so easily after the brief discussion.

It was after that that Vasalja gathered their courage and decided to approach Negasi.

 

**_ii._ **

They were quiet.

Negasi told himself every morning that he would leave that day, but every time he caught a glimpse of the pearlcatcher that tended the younglings who had hurt themselves play fighting, tended those not born of Plague when their wounds festered, and helped them fight their fights when a fever struck too harshly, he could feel the words becoming meaningless noise, spoken like they were detached from reality. Or, perhaps it was him that was disconnected. It was hard to tell the difference.

Vasalja did everything with the utmost care. They were only one of those who provided herbalist services at Serclun, but their little corner of in that part of the lair was as its own world. Not that the others were disorganized or careless, but the air around this one radiated a collected calm, and each action was executed with precision and what wasn't quite confidence, but Negasi had no better word for the way Vasalja did not waver no matter what sort of ailment they were greeted with.

He can't bring himself to approach, fearing that he would shatter the illusion that his mind has painted for him. Vasalja, on their part, never seemed to notice him. Almost like they lived in their world of serenity, the focused peace that separated them from others following them wherever they went. Vasalja was there, so close, but still distant in a way that felt impossible to overcome.

After the incident most members of the clan did not get too close. They weren't avoiding him per se, but the looks cast his way spoke loud. Negasi was unsure how to proceed, his mind torn between anger and self-doubt. He had been in this situation so many times, with many different dragons, beastkin even, and it always tore him up on the inside, not knowing if to trust his gut or believe the others. He had made the wrong choice so many times, and then left, but now, now he could not bear the idea of discarding what he had discovered here.

Eventually, he spoke with Tango. He half-expected a punishment or ridicule, but it never came.

Negasi was left alone with his confusion, until the one that bound him to Serclun came to him.

It is too much. He doesn't know if he made the right choice, and now they stood there before him, quiet and soft and all too real.

Negasi can't help but see his mother's comforting eyes staring at him. He knows Vasalja is not her. He knows.

His rational part, however, succumbs under the part that claws its way from somewhere deep within, demanding to be heard, carelessly slipping the word he he ought to have forgotten from his mouth without asking for permission. Such a deceptively small and simple word, yet it had been so long, too long, since he had uttered it.

As Vasalja closes in to embrace him, whispering softly as they held him close, Negasi cries.

 

**_iii._ **

They find a certain comfort in each other, in each other's company. But even more so, they are uncertain. Memories of familiar, gentle touch seem so distant as to feel like dreams that slip away in the mornings, as one rushes to get alert, to focus, to stay guarded.

The eerily familiar — comforting even — faces bring forth a muddle of emotions as they edged on initiating contact but never quite knowing how. 

On some level they recognize each other and what binds them, despite never knowing one another. But the realization drowns under the weight of the two clinging to the hesitant, shy closeness, something stolen from them, denied from them.

When they find a quiet moment, they seek out a place place of solitude, a place where they dare mentally retrace the steps they've taken in their lives; falling back into something tender and raw, their vulnerabilities bare.

Vasalja thinks they are beyond reason and too trusting, their gut twisting as they imagine having to wake up from this fever dream. But they are lulled into a haze of peacefulness. Vasalja nuzzles close to Negasi and pecks soft kisses on his head, and they are content in a way that is odd and new.

Negasi finds himself snuggling under Vasalja's wing for night's sleep, and that they welcome it. He falls asleep there, and dreams of lullabies to the sun, and a thousand lanterns lighting the night.


End file.
